


Drizzle

by MercuryPilgrim



Series: For the Sky [11]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Caring, M/M, Poor Malavai has his issues, Sweet, Ven is a good boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25343845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryPilgrim/pseuds/MercuryPilgrim
Summary: Ven'fir notices Malavai having a difficult time.
Relationships: Malavai Quinn/Male Sith Warrior
Series: For the Sky [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1244819
Comments: 7
Kudos: 17





	Drizzle

Ven’fir glanced up when he heard Vette raise her voice.

  
She was standing there by one of the terminals, her hands clenched at her sides and glaring a hole into the side of the Major's head.

  
“It doesn’t _matter_ , Quinn.” She ground out, her lekku curling in irritation.

  
The Major didn’t look at her.

  
“It does.” He said sharply, and it sounded like he was grinding his teeth.

  
Ven’fir looked at him.

  
He was so tense he moved like a droid, his limbs robotic and stiff.

  
His shoulders were hunched and tight, and his expression was pinched as he typed.

  
A bad feeling tingled in Ven’fir’s belly, and he brushed the Force over the Major and almost recoiled.

  
The spike of emotion was _painful_.

  
That swirling, jagged typhoon of feeling was suffocating and dark. It was the feeling of too much too much too much that he had felt on Quinn before.

  
It was like dragging his hand over broken glass.

  
He got up, padding over carefully.

  
As he approached them, he heard Vette snap something.

  
“You're _insufferable_.” She bit out, “Can’t you try not being so pedantic? What is _wrong_ with you?”

  
Quinn’s hands skittered over the panel, and he all but snarled at her, his eyes wide and manic.

  
He looked tired.

  
Ven hurried up.

  
“Vette!” he greeted with a plastered-on grin. “Would you be a dear and link in with Theron about those dampeners? I need to borrow the Major.”

  
Taken aback, she threw a last furious look at Quinn before turning on her heel and marching away.

  
Quinn stared after her, before turning blue eyes on Ven’fir.

  
Ven’fir’s smile turned softer.

  
“Bad day?” he asked, sympathetic. It was the wrong thing to say.

  
Quinn's nostrils flared for a moment and his mouth twisted into something ugly, even as his hands shook.

  
“It is when _nothing is right_.” He ground out, turning back to the console. “I need to correct these models.”

  
“Why?” Ven’fir asked, peering at them. “These are last week’s ones; we don’t need them.”

  
“They're _wrong_.”

  
His fingers jabbed at the lit keys.

  
Ven’fir was surer than ever he knew what this was.

  
“Mal?” he asked softly, keeping his voice level. “Leave them for tomorrow. You're exhausted and your shift ended... an hour ago.”

  
Black gloves hands shook.

  
“I need to work.”

  
“Why?”

  
His gentle question threw the soldier off and he glared as through Ven’fir was trying to outsmart him.

  
“There's so much to _do_.”

  
Ven nodded, smiling in what he hoped was a kind way.

  
“And it will be here tomorrow.” He soothed, desperately sympathetic. “You're having an anxiety attack, Mal.”

  
Malavai blinked.

  
“I- oh.”

  
Anxiety attacks weren’t always shaking and loss of breath. They weren’t always hyperventilation and digging nails into palms.

  
Sometimes there were bouts of irritability or annoyance, obsessive behaviour, hypersensitivity to disarray and chaos.

  
Some were hyperfixation on certain tasks or nit-picking at tiny things.

  
It had been a long time since Ven’fir had needed to intervene like this, and he made his heart hurt.

  
“Come on, let's take a datapad and go and sit for a bit in our room, yeah?”

  
Seeing Malavai’s refusal on his lips, he quickly spoke again.

  
“I said you can bring the work with you. It'll be there when you want it.”

  
Malavai swallowed thickly, and did so.

  
He stood, form wound so tight it had to hurt, his shoulders and arms held tense. His face, exhausted and washed out, was blank and manic.

  
Ven’fir brushed his fingertips over Malavai's elbow to get him walking.

  
He followed like a droid, hands clenching and unclenching at his side.

  
Ven’fir led him back to their rooms and, the moment the door was closed, led him over to the low sofa.

  
He gently pulled him down to sit on it, and guided him in for a hug.

  
Malavai melted into it.

  
“I'm sorry.” He heard him whisper, even as he shook. “I'm sorry.”

  
Ven’fir rubbed soothing circles onto his back.

  
It had taken him a long time and a lot of messing up to learn how to handle these situations.

  
“It's alright,” he murmured. “No harm done. It's not your fault.”

  
Malavai buried his nose in the crook of Ven’fir’s neck.

  
“It's embarrassing.” He whispered, coming down off his shakes and manic focus.

  
Ven’fir gave him a little squeeze. He knew hugs were often hit or miss with an anxiety ridden Malavai, but this seemed to be working so far.

  
Sometimes, when everything was hypersensitive and too much, physical touch was not encouraged.

  
They sat like that for a long time, just listening to each other breathe.

  
Talking was usually something that made Malavai feel worse, so comfortable silence it was.

  
“I don’t want to let you down. I need to be stronger than this.” Came the whisper from his shoulder, muffled and thick with emotion. “I'm not good enough, but I want to be.”

  
He pulled back slightly, and his eyes were shining.

  
“I promise I’ll be better.” He assured so passionately that it broke Ven’fir’s heart. “I'll work harder, I promise.”

  
Ven’fir struggled to find the words.

  
“Oh, Malavai.” he breathed, “You're don’t need to do any of that. You're brilliant as you are.”

  
Malavai didn’t believe him. Ven’fir could tell.

  
Ven’fir kissed him, sweet and soft.

  
“I love you.” He breathed, “It's your ridiculous brain talking, you know that.”

  
That was a risky thing to say, but it also gave Malavai an escape clause, which he took.

  
“My brain is ridiculous? That rich, coming from you.”

  
Ven’fir huffed out a laugh, and kissed him again.

  
“Not all of us have a brain faster than most computers.” He teased, and watched Malavai's form lose some of that painful tension.

  
“I think mine has a virus,” the Imperial said dryly, staying close. “Considering it doesn’t work right.”

  
Ven’fir shrugged, smiling. “You're working on it. You're fine.”

  
MMalavi blew out a breath, exhaling long and slow and shaking.

  
“I... I am, aren’t I? I’m fine.”

  
Ven’fir brushed his fingers over Malavai's gloved hand, and the officer grabbed him and held on tight.

  
“I hate this.” He said quietly, glancing up at Ven’fir. He looked so tired.

  
The faint web of scarring on the side of his face made him look worn, and the dark circles under his eyes gave him a grim look that didn’t suit him.

  
Ven’fir’s belly curled with affection and sympathy.

  
“I know you do.” He sighed. “Come on, let's have a quick nap.”

  
Malavai frowned.

  
“The work-"

  
“Will be done better when you're awake and not about to fall over.” Ven’fir assured him, meeting his anxiety driven thoughts in the middle. Malavai knew he was right. The work would be done to a higher standard when he was awake.

  
Slowly, Malavai nodded.

  
“I- okay.”

  
They undressed in silence before climbing into bed and curling closer to one another. Malavai clung to him, and Ven’fir held him close.

  
“I think we should talk to Master Vol again. Maybe book in another session.” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his lover’s temple.

  
Malavai shifted.

  
“I didn’t realise I had gotten that bad.” He whispered, and he sounded so small that Ven’fir wanted to cry.

  
“I hate seeing you hurt,” he replied, honest. “Even if it's by your own stupid brain.”

  
He felt Malavai smile against his shoulder.

  
“Hey, watch it.” He murmured with a small smile, before nodding. He shifted, awkward. “I like him. He doesn’t make me feel embarrassed.”

  
Ven’fir’s heart swelled at that.

  
“Good. We'll deal with that later, though.”

  
“Need to say sorry to Vette.” Malavai mumbled, already on his way to sleep.

  
Ven’fir gave him an affectionate squeeze.

  
“She'll understand,” he assured. “Now, sleep.”

  
A small snore told him that Malavai was already under, and he smiled to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Malavai struggles with his own head, but thankfully Ven knows how to help him now, after many years.
> 
> Ven’fir does sometimes know how to be tactful :P


End file.
